Engines of War
by Rhysicus
Summary: During the second world war, hundreds of British Built engines were sent to France to be used to supply the front line with supplys. many never returned. Please do not read if easily offended, contains some language and references to WWII Germany.
1. Chapter 1

**Engines of War.**

**A Fan fiction, Written by Rhysicus.**

**Chapter 1 – Retirement, and a new beginning.**

The sun was setting on the island of Sodor, and Thomas was heading back to the dockyard. He had just finished his days work, shunting coaches at the big station. He had been called to replace Percy as he was having a new Injector fitted. He had been looking forward to a nice rest in the shed when the fat controller came and ordered him to go to the docks at once. He would be meeting a ship, an ancient general cargo steamer called SS "Martha" that was arriving that night.

Thomas sat in the siding on the berth, waiting for the vessel. The sun had gone, and he could see the lighthouse shining its light brightly, to warn of the approaching coastline for sea going ships. Soon, the unmistakable, deep pitched whistle of an ocean steamer sounded, and Thomas knew that they would be arriving soon. The pilot boat steamed past at a full head of knots, along with customs and quarantine officers to clear the vessel in.

Finally, after the vessel had been manoeuvred into position, the cargo hatches were opened. The union purchase derricks were thrust into action, and began to discharge the foreign cargoes. Just then, the cargo superintendant came to see Thomas.

"Thomas, we're about to unload a new engine, his wouldn't tell us his name, but he did respond if we called him "Corporal". He said.

"Corporal?" asked Thomas.

"Yes, he is an ex-military engine".

"Oh god" Thought Thomas, "He's going to be just as bossy as Gordon!"

First came the Tender, the union purchase derricks struggled to cope with the weight between them, and the ship heeled over as the tender was swung out from the ships centreline. The moment it touched the ground, the vessel righted itself again. Thomas moved the tender clear of the unloading area, and watched in anticipation. The derricks groaned as they heaved the heavy load of the massive war department locomotive, a massive WD 2-10-0 locomotive. He was painted black, and looked as though he had not received any wash downs for a considerable time. Parts of his valve gear were rusted, and the white runs of lime scale trickled from his valves and joints.

Thomas watched in awe as the workmen pulled ropes and pushed the engine back and fore, to align him onto the track below. The foreman sighed with relief once the monster engine had been placed on the rails. Thomas shunted his tender into position, and waited for the workmen to couple him to it. He puffed forward to the new engine nervously.

"Hello, sir. My name is Thomas".

"Hello Thomas." He said with a deep, grainy voice. His eyes were old, and his face had scars on the left side. Thomas stared at them.

"Shrapnel, that's what did it" he then said, without warning.

Thomas was taken aback.

"I'm sorry?" he asked politely.

"Shrapnel, the scars on my face".

"Oh! Oh, sir, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare!" Thomas tried to explain.

"It's ok, youngster, I'm used to it now" Corporal sighed, and then looked once more at the ship. "I never thought I would travel on a ship again".

Just then, the engines noticed the foreman sign some papers, and then speak to Thomas' driver. His driver then came back and shunted Thomas in front of Corporal, and coupled them together. Thomas pulled hard but Corporal was very heavy. He struggled up the steep slope out of the dockyard, and along the coastline that lead to the mainline.

Later that night, they arrived back at Tidmouth sheds. Thomas was instructed to place Corporal onto the inspection pit, and then was allowed to go back to the shed for a well earned rest. When he reversed into the shed, the engines all asked questions at once.

"So Thomas, who is he?" they all asked.

"His name is Corporal, he's Ex military" Thomas replied.

The engines groaned, they didn't like the sound of a military engine.

"I remember during the war, when all the soldiers were heading out to France, all the shouting, drills, marching" Said Duck, "absolute discipline!"

"I hope he doesn't think that he can come here and order us about!" Piped up Gordon. "He's not in the army now!"

The engines all agreed, however Thomas remained silent. He was curious about the new engine. He didn't believe that he was arrogant. He seemed quiet, and distant. The next day, Corporal was given attention from the shed staff. The cleaners all set to work removing the lime scale, old grease and oil, and prepared him for his first day's work. They polished his brass work, and repainted his buffer beams. The fitters oiled and greased him up, shaking their heads in disbelief at how neglected he had been at his last shed. Thomas' cleaner began talking to Thomas and Emily.

"He was based at Cardiff canton depot, apparently" He said, "They've finally got rid of steam there now. The whole western region is fully dieselised".

Thomas didn't like the sound of that, but it was an all too familiar story. Engines were coming to the island of Sodor to escape scrap now; in fact, Oliver had recently arrived for exactly that reason.

"But why was he so badly treated? What did he do to deserve it?" asked Emily.

"British Railways is trying to get rid of steam on the railways, and they want any excuse possible to just scrap them. Have you heard of Evening star?" asked the cleaner.

"Yes, the last steam engine to be built at Swindon. Everyone has heard of him!" exclaimed Emily.

"Did you hear that he has been retired?" asked the cleaner.

"What? But he isn't even 5 years old yet!" Thomas spluttered!

"Yes, he was involved in an accident and needed a repair that was estimated to cost £1000, but they won't spend the money on looking after steam engines when they are all going to be scrapped anyway!" explained the cleaner.

"My god." Sighed Emily. "What hope is there for any of us?"

"I wouldn't worry; the fat controller owns this railway, not British Railways. They cannot touch you!" said the cleaner happily.

Thomas and Emily were then given their days work, and set off from the shed. As they rolled past Corporal, they noticed bullet holes in the side of his cab, just underneath the window frame. Emily stared in shock at them. Corporal's eyes met hers, and she looked away quickly, and steamed away as fast as she could. The fitters that were working on Corporal were concerned, his front buffer beam looked damaged but, they could not see how.

"Corporal, can you tell me how long your buffer beam has been like this?" asked the chief fitter.

"Since 1943" sighed Corporal sadly. "Long story".

The chief fitter could sense the tension in the air, and decided to move onto something else. Soon, Corporal was in steam, and ready to work. He was driven to the water tower, and then to the coal chute. The fat controller came to see him.

"Good morning Corporal" he said.

"Good morning sir" Corporal replied.

"I Hope you are feeling well after your crossing, I hope the sea wasn't too rough".

"Force ten all the way sir!"

"Ah, well you'll be taking it easy today while the engineers let the new grease run into your system. Ive got some light work for you; it's enough to give you a challenge but nothing too strenuous. I want you to take empties up to the colliery for me, and then return to the docks with the loaded ones. You worked in the South Wales coal fields before so I'm sure you know what you are doing! It'll give you a chance to learn the island a bit". Said the Fat Controller.

"Yes sir" Grunted Corporal, his deep voice booming around the coal chute.

Corporal worked hard all day, but said little to anyone. Thomas and Emily were also working at the colliery today, shunting and preparing the trains for Corporal. Thomas and Emily decided to try and talk to Corporal to make him feel welcome, Emily approached nervously. She felt scared of him, his deep old eyes looked into her, making her feel afraid.

"How are you getting on Corporal?" asked Thomas. Emily smiled nervously.

"Fine, thank you" sighed Corporal.

After an awkward silence, Emily piped up. "You know if you have any questions, feel free... to... ask" she broke off, as his eyes returned to her, and instantly putting the fear of god into her.

"Thank you, I will" Corporal said. "Excuse me".

He then puffed away, and coupled up to the newly loaded coal train and puffed away with it. Emily watched him leave, and felt sad. She didn't know why, but she could sense that something was bothering Corporal. She didn't know what though, and couldn't even begin to put her feelings into words. Thomas could also sense something was bothering him.

"You know, he seems a bit, edgy, doesn't he?" said Thomas softly.

"Yes" replied Emily. She looked at Thomas, and then back at Corporal who was just passing around the corner and out of view. "I wonder if we should ask him".

"Not yet" Said Thomas quickly, "If there is something on his mind, I'm sure he'll tell us in his own time".

Sadly, that was to be wishful thinking. As time went on, and Corporal settled into his new job, the engines became more and more curious of him. He very rarely spoke to anybody, and seemed distant and preoccupied. He didn't sleep in the sheds with the other engines, but outside in the cold, on the inspection pit. Emily felt more concerned as time passed. Corporal did talk more to Emily and Thomas from time to time, but none of the others; it was as though he didn't trust any of them. It wasn't long before Gordon, Henry and James were planning their devious tricks to try and fool Corporal. Emily and Thomas warned them not to, but they took no notice.

One day, James was shunting down the docks, when Corporal arrived. He decided to play a trick on him.

"Ah, Corporal! I'm glad you're here! The fat controller was just here, and he asked me to take that train of vans up to the colliery, but I have to stay here to shunt these wagons as they are being loaded. Is there any chance you could do it for me?" he said deceitfully.

"Ok" grunted Corporal, and began shunting the vans onto the end of his train. James sniggered and laughed about how much trouble Corporal was going to be in when the foreman realised that he had taken the vans away.

Corporal steamed up the valley, the smoke was thundering out of his chimney like a volcanic eruption. The cinders being thrown out set fire to the surrounding landscape, and regularly they had to stop to put out the fires. These delays made Corporal very angry, but this wasn't made any better once they arrived at the colliery. The foreman took a look out of his window, and smashed his coffee cup in anger. He ran out of his office and demanded to know what was going on. Corporal explained that James had told him to bring them, and received a mouthful of abuse from the colliery foreman. He was then ordered to take them back to the docks, and that his next journey, he would be pulling the wagons from two trains in one, twice as long, and twice as heavy. This made Corporal's water boil, and his safety valves boomed into action. For the whole journey, his driver and fireman had to hold their hands to their ears because of the noise.

When they arrived at the docks, Corporal dumped the vans where he had found them, and found Gordon, Henry and James waiting at the other end of the docks, all laughing and jeering at him. He steamed forward, and bumped James backwards. The engines, all taken aback, watched in horror as Corporal pushed James towards the edge of the dockyard, and knocked the buffers through and stopped. James began to panic as Corporal's seething eyes dug deep into his, James immediately regretted his little joke. James' tender teetered dangerously close to the edge of the berth, and the concrete began to crumble as it took the weight of James' tender.

Corporal sat there, safety valves blasting and preparing for revenge, His face full of anger.

"CORPORAL! THAT'S ENOUGH!" bellowed a distant voice.

Corporal's face changed from anger, to sudden surprise, and regret. Instantly he backed away, and closed his eyes. The man who had shouted came running over from his car. A tall, balding man, fully uniformed in army officers uniform, and well decorated with medals and colours. A Large scar line ran across his face.

"Corporal, Stand down at once!" he shouted again, and ran over to the large black engine. James, now realising that his life was no longer in danger, puffed forward towards Gordon and Henry, who sat transfixed on the General and the engine. The General was shouting now, and angrily pointed away, to which Corporal steamed away as fast as he could. The general approached James.

"I think it would be best, if we forget what happened today and keep it our secret", he said quietly. "Bad for morale, you see".

"But... But... He tried to kill me! Why shouldn't I tell..." Began James, his voice shaking.

"Because if it wasn't for me, he WOULD have killed you! You have no idea what he has been through, nor what he is capable of!" Shouted the general, his face glowing red. "Next time I hope you think carefully before you play one of your little tricks".

James did think, as did Gordon and Henry. They decided it would be best to keep the story quiet, as the General said. If the news got around that they had received such revenge for one of their practical jokes, then it may spread around the shed and they would lose their respect and be laughed at. They went back to the shed, sad engines.

Sadly, news of James' near death experience did spread around. The dock workers who had witnessed the incident had spread the gossip around, and it wasn't long until the other engines heard about it. Emily was absolutely petrified of Corporal now. Thomas fell silent whenever Corporal approached and tried to keep his distance.

Corporal felt terrible, he had just undone year's worth of counselling and treatment, all in one backlash of anger. He had worked so hard to try to forget what he had seen, and now some stupid red engine with a very strange sense of humour had made him crack.

"I'm stronger than this" he told himself, but he knew he wasn't.

One night, he was alone at the coal chute; he decided to stay here for the night, where he definitely wouldn't be disturbed. Thomas and Emily plucked up the courage, and decided to try and talk to him about what had happened. When they arrived, Corporal sighed.

"I suppose you want to know what happened between me and James?" he asked sadly.

"Not for the gossip, we want to know if we can help you, Corporal" Whispered Thomas, Emily kept perfectly silent.

"It was just an angry outburst" Corporal replied, "I can't seem to control them anymore. They are getting worse as I get older. They said that they would go away, they said I would forget, but every time I close my eyes, I can still see them, I can still hear the shots, I can still hear the roar of the explosions, I just can't get it out of my head. I can still see them".

"See... See who?" asked Emily, as quiet as a mouse.

Corporal sighed, and decided, it was finally time to open up. The general had told him that opening up and not keeping his memories bottled up inside, was very beneficial. He had even ordered him to do it, but this was the only order that corporal had ever refused in his life.

"Ive spent the last 20 years trying to pretend it never happened" He began, "I Just want to move on with my life, but I just cannot forget".

A silent tear fell from his eyelash, Emily suddenly felt sad, and not scared.

"It's ok, Corporal, you can tell us" She said softly, "We'll listen".


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Engines of Austerity.**

Corporal, and the other engines, all fresh from the factory, were all lined up in the factory grounds. The engineers admired their work proudly, and stood back to take it in. The first batch of the new generation war locomotives was now complete. Designed to reduce the quantity of steel to be required for each engine, and designed to provide gigantic amounts of power and traction on lightly laid track, using the poorest of fuel sources possible. A perfect locomotive for the battlefield, powerful and able to run on the poorest conditions of track, even that which had been damaged by bombs.

The engines had just emerged from the works paint shops. Since the beginning of the war, Swindon works had become a hive of activity. Producing anything from bullets to tin cans and saucepans, it was determined to see Great Britain through her darkest hour in sheer production quantities.

Corporal was shunted behind a great western 28xx engine, one of Swindon's proudest achievements, apart from the great engines such as "The great bear", the mighty "King" class, and even the legendary "City of Truro". The train consisted of mostly munitions and supplies for the troops, who were now fighting on the front lines against the Germans in France. The 28xx, numbered 2865, was waiting impatiently for the signal to change. He would be taking the train as far as Salisbury, and from there it would be the responsibility of the southern railway. The 28xx pulled hard and the smoke filled the sky, his safety valves blowing loudly.

On arrival in Salisbury, Corporal said goodbye to the 28xx, and got comfy while he waited for the new engine to arrive. The engine never turned up, and he began to feel bored and frustrated. A small E2 tank engine was shunting the yard, and as he passed Corporal, he shouted at him.

"Hey mate, do you know when my next engine is going to get here! I'm bored as hell!" Shouted Corporal.

"What's your hurry? You're off to France aren't you?" Asked the E2.

"We don't know yet, I have to get to Southampton docks first, then they will decide who will go and who will stay. I'm hoping to get out there and see some action! Going to give those damn jerries a taste of British steel!" Exclaimed Corporal proudly.

"Another one that wants to die" said the E2 quietly. "Listen kid, I see around 10 of you guys coming through here every week, bound for Southampton. I've never seen anyone come back"

"Pah! The war isn't over yet is it? The war has only just begun! They're still out there probably!" said Corporal.

Just then, the new engine arrived, a WD 2-10-0 engine, similar to Corporal, who shunted himself in front of Corporal.

"Good luck kid, take care of yourself" said the E2.

"Ah don't worry about me, old timer, I'll show them Krauts who is boss!" Said Corporal loudly.

The WD engine pulled hard, and the train was soon out of sight. The E2 crossed the yard to the siding where his friend, a fellow T9 tender engine, was resting.

"Another one to bear the cross?" He asked.

"Yup, they have no idea, do they?" Replied the little old E2.

The train thundered on through the English countryside. Corporal admired it in awe, not realising that this would be the last tranquillity he would experience for a long time. The large WD engine on the front, chatted to him as he headed towards Southampton.

"So have you been told where you're going yet?" he asked.

"No, we're supposed to be told when we get to the docks." Replied Corporal.

"Ah, I remember when I was chosen, I was so happy not to be going to France" he replied.

"That's not the attitude to have! We need to keep positive to win this war!" muttered Corporal.

"Ah, but of course" replied the WD engine. He then fell silent.

The train slowed down as it approached the outskirts of Southampton. The munitions were dropped off in the yard, and then Corporal was taken across the dock, to berth 36, where 7 other engines, similar to Corporal were waiting. They eyed him up cautiously, but soon let down their guard. The engines chatted well into the night. The colonel would be coming down to see them in the morning.

At around 2 am, the engines were rudely woken from their slumber by the unmistakable sound of air raid sirens. The dock workers all ran for cover, dropping their tools as they ran.

"What the hell is going on?" shouted Corporal amongst the din.

"Air raid! They've been raiding every night for the last week!" they're determined to wipe Southampton from the map!" Shouted Ted, the engine next to him.

"Why aren't we fighting back?" Demanded Corporal, "Where are our planes?"

"They're coming soon!" Shouted Barry, another engine waiting in the yard.

Soon, the unmistakable sound of a squadron of spitfires loomed overhead, the engines cheered as the gun fire started, and soon the nights sky lit up like the fires of hell. The battle of Britain was in full swing.

"Get some sleep" advised Ted, we'll need it for tomorrow.

"Yes, do you think we'll all be sent to France?" asked Corporal.

"Hell no! We're all off to France for sure!" exclaimed Ted. "There is a shortage of engines for the front lines, they need us!"

Corporal felt proud and determined as he fell to sleep that night. Early the next morning, the colonel approached them, a tall, grey haired man with a moustache, smart uniform and an important strut marched around them, inspected them, and made several loud sniffs whenever he saw something that he did not like.

"I say, very dirty but you'll do. Now! Listen up!"

"PAY ATTENTION YOU LOUSY MAGGOTS!" bellowed the sergeant stood just behind him.

"Now, can anybody tell me what you need to win a war?" asked the colonel.

The engines stayed silent.

"No? Nobody knows?" Said the colonel, "Ok, then today will be your first lesson on the realities of war! You may have seen the comic books and fantastic films that show soldiers fighting to death or glory, but sadly for you, the reality is different! Sergeant Davis, can you tell me what wins a war please?"

"WATER! FOOD! FUEL & BULLETS! SIR!" Bellowed the sergeant.

"That's right sir! Now repeat that after me, engines!" shouted the colonel.

"WATER, FOOD, FUEL AND BULLETS SIR!" Bellowed the engines.

"AGAIN!" shouted the colonel.

The engines shouted it as loudly as they could.

"LOUDER!" Screamed the colonel.

The engines screamed at the top of their voices. The colonel seemed satisfied.

"Now, remember this lesson, engines! The 4 things to fight a war are those foresaid items, in THAT order! Never forget this! It may save your life one day!" the colonel then turned and collected a notepad from his sergeant.

"Now, you are going to be loaded onto this ship next here" He pointed at an ancient looking tramper with ragged rigging and rust all over the decks. "Then you will be taken to Le Havre. From there you will be briefed on where you will go from there."

The colonel walked away, and the dock workers all set to work, loading the engines onto the rough old ship. The union purchase derricks creaked as they took the load of the engines and lifted them into the cargo holds. The cargo holds were dirty and smelly; they looked like they hadn't been washed out in a very long time.

"Excuse me sir, why are these holds so dirty?" Corporal asked the sailor eagerly.

"Well excuse me sir! We've been so caught up in this war; what with fetching and carrying guns, bullets, bombs, engines and fuel, forgive me, I forgot to roll out the red carpet for you!" Shouted the able seaman.

Corporal was surprised, but decided to hold his tongue. It was going to be a long day. The rest of the engines were loaded into the hold, and the hatches were battened down and sealed. The ship sailed and left Southampton for the long pilotage down the Solent, finally dropping off the pilot at the nab tower.

Once passed the Isle of Wight, the captain ordered full sea speed to make the crossing of the English Channel as quick as possible. The voyage to Le Havre was only a short distance, but with a maximum steaming speed of 7 knots, and with merchant shipping being the prime targets of the mighty German "U-Boat" Fleet, a quick passage would be necessecary.

The captain came to the bridge, and the 2nd officer was checking the noon sight on the chart.

"The current has taken us 5 miles further north sir" Said the 2nd mate.

"Damn and blast!" said the captain. "We're sitting ducks here! Those god damn colonels don't realise that we need to travel in convoy!" he slammed his hand on the chart desk.

"What shall we do if they sight us sir?" asked the midshipman, a young 14 year old boy who had run away from home and lied about his age.

"Use your brain boy, what can we do? They don't call them the silent hunters for no reason!" said the captain. "Just keep a good look out for periscopes, you can sight them easily if they are stalking us, especially when they are on the move, the wake of the periscope will give it away".

The captain ordered extra lookouts on the bridge, and extra stokers for the boiler room. With the current heading north east, it was pushing the ship off course, and meant that it would take longer to reach Le Havre.

"Periscope, bearing 235 degrees, range, around 6 or 7 nautical miles, captain!" Shouted one of the lookouts.

"Shit!" Shouted the captain, "And in board daylight too! He must have seen that we have no patrol!"

The captain then checked his chart, frantically.

"Helmsman, make your course 220 degrees!" he said suddenly.

"220 degrees, aye sir!" replied the Helmsman.

"Sparky, send out a mayday call and ask for assistance from any naval ship in the area on the Marconi set please". The captain added.

"Aye, aye sir" Replied the wireless officer.

The first mate approached the captain.

"Sir? We're headed straight for him?" he asked nervously.

"That we be, Mr Mate". Said the captain quietly. "The only weapon we have against him is that we know where he is. If we head straight towards him, and then do some tricky manoeuvres then by the grace of god we could hold off from dying for about 5 minutes longer".

The ship listed heavily to starboard, and the coffee cups on the bridge slid and smashed as the officers and lookouts held on to inanimate objects on the bridge to prevent them from sliding. The captain walked onto the bridge wing, the sun was shining and only a few high clouds in the sky. He sighed and tapped his fingers nervously. As he picked up the binoculars, he looked towards the periscope, to see the tell tale wake of a surface torpedo.

"Rudder, Hard a starboard!" Shouted the captain. There followed the series of commands shouted from the bridge, and the vessel listed over once more.

"Mr Mate, if we survive this then you can ask the chief engineer to shift some ballast to the port side please, we're listing too much whenever we turn". Said the captain to the first officer.

"Aye sir" replied the first mate. He felt nervous, but the captain's calm and reasonable behaviour gave him confidence.

The engines in the hold were not enjoying their voyage one little bit.

"It's hardly the queen Mary now is it?" said Barry sarcastically.

"Oh god man, we're going to die out here! WE'RE GOING TO DIE!" screamed one of the other engines loudly.

"Hey! Shut up!" Shouted Corporal. "That attitude will definitely get us killed!"

The engine piped down, but gave corporal an evil look. Corporal could instantly tell that he didn't like this other engine. Back on the bridge, the lookouts were beginning to feel the same way.

"Jesus Christ man, why haven't we abandoned the ship?" asked on of the young sailors, a young man, keen to get away from home to serve his country, but refused because of his medical condition. Now, he served in the merchant navy, only because the Royal navy wouldn't have him.

"Shut up, we don't need to abandon ship" replied the much older and more experienced Bosun.

"He's going to get us killed!" shouted the young sailor.

"Pipe down!" Shouted the Bosun loudly, "Get back to your post!"

The Bosun tried to shove the binoculars into his hands, but he threw them down, and frantically tried to don his own lifejacket. The Bosun made to stop him, but the young sailor threw a punch. An eruption of pandemonium engulfed the bridge as the other sailors made to break up the fight. The captain put a stop to it at once.

"Listen to me son; we are not going to die! Now get back to your post and stop being such a coward!"

"I am not a coward sir" Said the young sailor, wiping blood from his mouth.

"Then prove it" said the captain, and handed him the binoculars. The young sailor grudgingly returned to his post, and the Bosun returned to his.

"First torpedo missed sir!" Said the first officer with relief.

"Very good, Mr Mate" Said the captain. "Keep a sharp lookout boys" he added.

"Torpedo in the water sir! Dead ahead, range 2 nautical miles sir!" Shouted one of the lookouts.

"Thank you, maintain course and speed" replied the captain.

The first mate approached the captain again.

"Sir, shouldn't we alter course now?" he suggested?

"Negative, Mr Mate. If we alter now, we present our whole hull as a target for that torpedo. That could rip our side open to the sea easier than anything. We stay on course, he has a much narrower chance of hitting us, and even if he does, he hits our bow, which will take quite an impact to rip it open". Said the captain calmly.

The first mate backed down, he fumbled at his binoculars nervously. The captain could sense his anxiety.

"Steady boys, don't go selling your souls yet" he said quietly. "We aren't out of the game yet".

"Torpedo dead ahead sir! Around 200 yards!" Shouted the lookout.

"Thank you Mr Murray!" said the captain. He then walked out to the bridge wing, and peered over the side. The torpedo whizzed past around 15 metres on the port side. The captain sighed with relief, and the second officer placed his head in his hands and thanked god. Suddenly, they heard a distant shot being fired. The captain looked around to see a large royal naval destroy approaching them at full speed from the port quarter.

"Oh thank god! Thank you sweet Jesus!" Sang the captain. The crew all cheered and waved the destroyer as she steamed past to pursue the U-Boat. Down in the cargo hold, Corporal was beginning to feel sea sick. A little later, 2 of the sailors returned to their normal duties and came to tidy up the cargo hold. Instead they spent the time smoking cigarettes and telling the engines about the U-boat. The engines all felt seasick all of a sudden.

Night time had arrived, and the coastline of northern France was dark, but the odd light house shone brightly. The ship navigated its way along the narrow fairway and into the port of Le Havre. The dock workers set to work unloading the ship while the sailors went to the nearest bars to try their luck with the local ladies. The cranes creaked and groaned once more as the mighty war department engines were lifted and lowered onto the French rails.

A small French tank engine came and took each one away. Corporal came to know him as Francis who explained that more engines had arrived here a week ago.

They trundled out of the village and along a rickety and poorly laid track to a large open field, where the army had set up its field headquarters. Several railway lines were laid, and connected to the mainline. The field was covered in tents, and littered with boxes of ammunition and weapons. Several large fuel tanks were located on the southern end of the field, and dotted around, were several anti aircraft gun positions.

The engines were all taken to a depot, where it looked as though the original engine shed had been butchered and expanded to accommodate more locomotives. Corporal soon came to learn that to deserve a place in that shed, you had to have already served time on the front line and this was the reward. For now, he would be spending his nights in a rickety old siding near a swampy marsh. The track looked as though it had been laid by school children.

"Wow, our first night out on the field!" said Barry nervously.

"It sure is cold here" sighed Corporal. "I wish I could get in that nice warm shed".

"You'll need to stay alive long enough to get into that shed" said a voice. The engines look around, and an elderly looking great western engine, dean goods 0-6-0 trundled up to them.

"My name is Sergeant Banks, but you can call me Sarge. He said. "I've been out here since the great war, so I know the place well. You can get your coal and water over there, next to the sheds. Inspection pit is, well, nonexistent, and don't expect any wash downs. Out here we live day by day, and you all better learn pretty quickly what I mean".

The engines felt nervous.

"Right, you all better get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, trust me". He said, and then steamed away.

The engines settled in and got ready to sleep. The engine that Corporal had shouted at earlier piped up.

"My god, did you see the ancient old timer? It's no wonder that they needed us here". He sniggered.

"Hey, I expect he's seen more action than you've had wash downs, so less of your mouth!" Snarled Corporal.

"Don't talk to me like that! Who do you think you are?" The engine snarled back at him. Corporal looked away in disgust.

"Sissy" snarled the engine, quietly. Corporal looked up.

"What did you call me?" he demanded.

"A Sissy!" repeated the engine. "A Big girl's blouse! A raging Poof, whatever you want to call it".

"A Big Girl's blouse? Listen here sunshine!" began Corporal.

"Hey! Stow it you lot!" Shouted the dean, "Get some sleep now!"

The engines quietened down, and corporal tried to get some sleep. Soon, the air raid sirens sounded again, and corporal watched as the convoys of German bombers headed across the English Channel. Corporal wondered on how many bombs would be dropped from them during the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Supply and demand.**

"RISE AND SHINE! EVERYBODY UP!" Screamed the dean. The engines all stirred, the sun was barely rising now, and the trumpeter was sounding the morning colours. Corporal struggled to open his eyes, and waited for orders. The stokers came around and began work on lighting up their boilers for their first day's work.

"Rise and shine boys!" said the dean again. He chuffed backwards and forwards, whooshing steam loudly. The engines all sat in the siding, stirring and trying not to fall asleep again. The stokers prepared them and soon Corporal had steam up. He noticed that the other engines in the yard were already in steam, and very dirty. Corporal was taken by his driver down the mainline, and they soon arrived at the dockyard of Le Havre, where the engines had been unloaded the previous night. A train completely loaded with military supplies was waiting ready for them. Corporal sniffed at the sight of the French trucks.

"My word, look at these buffers? They look filthy! And why are there two brake pipes?" he asked the Shunter.

The Shunter did not reply, but talked in French to his driver. His driver soon came back.

"The Shunter doesn't know what you are on about, what did you ask?" asked his driver.

"Why do we have 2 brake pipes here?" repeated Corporal.

"Air brakes" replied the driver. Suddenly they heard a whistle, and another WD engine puffed towards the dockyard. He was pulling a train of old coaches that looked like they hadn't seen any passengers for a long time. Soon, the cargo was unloaded. The cargo, as it turned out, was stretchers of soldiers being evacuated back to England. Corporal stared in awe as they were carried, and wheeled towards a waiting hospital ship.

"Why are they being evacuated?" Asked Corporal. "Don't we have any hospitals here?"

"Not now" Said a passing walking wounded soldier. "Germans advanced 2 miles just south of Le Mans (Change), and gave us a hammering, last I seen was the town being overrun with Germans and our boys pulling back".

Corporal didn't like the sound of that.

"We were supposed to be taking these supplies to Le Mans". Said his driver. "I'll ask down the supplies tent, maybe they have some new orders for us".

The driver returned with bad news.

"Just heard from the front line" he said quietly. "Our boys have been pushed back from Le mans, God damn Germans have killed almost 2000 and captured around 600. We are to take this fuel and munitions right into the front line".

"No problem" Said Corporal, confidently. He had never been into battle, and was eager to get stuck in.

They headed out of the dockyard and onto the mainline towards Le Mans. As they headed down the line, they noticed a significant lack of British soldiers where they were supposed to be. They were all running along the track, heading the opposite way.

"There has to be something up" said the driver.

They headed through some dense foliage, and came to a stop near the field base, which had been set up near the railway line. It was deserted. The driver looked around and could see all the field radios, tents and other equipment just abandoned. The soldiers on the train climbed down and tried to search for survivors. Corporal maintained a close watch on the surrounding area, and was instructed to shout at the first sign of any enemy activity. He heard some rustling in the bushes.

"Driver" He said nervously. "I think we have company".

Corporal's eyes widened as he watched the Germans crouch in the bushes.

"AMBUSH!" Cried Corporal as loud as he could.

The first shot fired, and the whole hedge lit up with the yellow flashes of machine gun fire. The Battalion that was searching the field camp dived for cover, and their comrades were helplessly mowed down.

Corporal jumped out of his boiler as he felt bullets zoom past his smoke box. The driver slammed him into reverse, and they tried to reverse the train away. The British soldiers opened fire, and Corporal shouted, as one by one they were killed.

"IT'S A GOD DAMN AMBUSH!" Screamed the sergeant. "CONTACT, 1 OCLOCK! SERGEANT PHILLIPS! GET THAT TRAIN BACK TO CAMP! WE NEED THOSE SUPPLIES INTACT!"

Sergeant Phillips sprinted over to Corporal, who was reversing franticly, and wheel spinning madly as his driver took cover in his cab. He climbed into the cab.

"Get this train back to HQ! We need to tell them the Germans have taken this position!" He yelled.

"But what about your battalion!" Started the driver.

"We are more important! Without these supplies, we have had it! Get moving!" spat the Sergeant. The sergeant leaned out of the cab window and fired his Thompson machine gun toward the Germans.

Corporal pushed back on the train with all of his strength. He could feel the adrenaline surging throughout him. His wheels slipped helplessly and his driver could do nothing to stop it. The heat from the slipping made his wheels glow red, and he grimaced in pain. The volcanic plume of smoke and cinders thundered through the tree tops and covered the surrounding landscape in flame and ash.

Soon the wheel slip stopped, and they were far away enough from the battle for the driver to stand up again.

"This is bad, we're right in the red zone!" Shouted Corporals fireman. "They must have advanced another mile since!"

"No shit" Shouted Sergeant Phillips. They thundered on in reverse, not knowing what lay behind them.

"If they've blown up the track, we're doomed" Sighed Corporals driver.

Suddenly, Corporal felt an unfamiliar jolt through the track, and his driver looked down.

"They're tried to blow up the track!" he shouted. "They must be waiting to ambush us!"

"GET DOWN!" Screamed Sergeant Phillips, as a barrage of machine gun fire engulfed Corporals cab. The demands of creating locomotives using lesser quantities of steel were just about to show their major flaw. 4 large gaping holes pierced through the side of Corporals cab, and the fireman lay dead on the floor, with blood oozing from the bullet holes that tore through his stomach and chest.

"Jesus Christ! Charlie!" Began his driver, but the Sergeant stood up to the challenge. He grabbed the stokers shovel and threw the coal into the firebox. Corporal's driver gave him the quickest training session in how to fire a locomotive in history, and they sped on down the line.

Finally, they passed through the small town of St Gatt. They slowed down and stopped, and prepared to run around the train so that they could see what lay ahead of them. The signalman shouted from the signal box, and several German vans suddenly hurtled down the road towards them, laden with soldiers all ready to fight them to destroy the supply train.

"SHIT!" shouted the driver. "Throw that Lever, quick!"

Sergeant Phillips threw the point lever, and dived back into the cab. The signalman did his best to prepare the road for them, but as soon as he had set the last point, a German soldier entered the signal box. Corporal banged into the rear of the supply train, and bent the buffer beam of the last truck. The lookout team that sat on the back of the train opened fire at the Germans, and covered the driver as he coupled up the Instanter coupling, and air brakes.

Corporal's air brake pump roared into action, and he blew steam manically. He whistled loudly as he pulled on the train with all of his might, and watched as the lookout team continued to fire hopelessly at the Germans. The man stood nearest to him, a young looking Private, fell to the deck of the wagon, and gave Corporal one final look of horror, as he fell off the side of the train. Corporal could feel the boy's blood from the killer shot trickling down his face; he blew and spat to try to get it off, but to no avail.

Some final explosions and gun fire was heard, but as they passed underneath the bridge, it ceased. Corporal felt his driver open the regulator and he pulled faster.

The miles flew passed. Corporal stayed silent in shock, and felt sick. The boys in front of him smoked and talked about the battle and dressed each other's wounds, but tried not to look at Corporal. They knew what he was thinking about.

As they hit the mainline, they continued onto the marshalling yard and dumped the munitions train. Corporal was low on fuel and water now, and needed topping up. They headed back to the yard, so the Sergeant could give his report to the General. As the Sergeant climbed down from his cab, Dean puffed up alongside.

"You handled yourself well today, kid". He said quietly. "Not bad for your first day".

Corporal couldn't speak. His throat hurt from shouting so much.

"Very good work on getting those supplies back. Most engines would have just dumped them and left" the dean added. "Go get yourself some coal and water, and I'll get someone to wipe the blood off your face".

Corporal suddenly remembered about the blood, he had completely forgotten. He looked at his buffer beam, and could see another pool of blood. He closed his eyes, and cried for the first time in his life.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – We shall go on till the end.**

As the months passed, the Germans took a stronger foothold in France, and soon, British and French troops were falling back from all directions. As soon as one train of supplies would go out, the Germans would advance a few more miles and the supplies would be captured.

Corporal was a different engine. He no longer felt cocky and ready for anything. Now, he lived one day at a time. The Germans continued to hammer the British defences and one by one, towns, and even cities were falling to the hands of the Nazi's.

Corporal was resting in the siding one day; his driver was reading the news paper on his buffer beam. Corporal coughed as the wind blew his cigarette smoke into his face.

"Can't you smoke somewhere else?" He asked.

"You can't say much, you make more smoke every day that I will in my lifetime!" Shouted his driver and returned to his newspaper. The main story, "Paris Falls, France surrenders". The morale of the soldiers in the base was beginning to falter, and they knew the Germans were coming for them. Constant bombardments from German bombers were proof of this, trying to even the odds for the ground forces when they arrived. Soon, the field base was packed up, and the British pulled back again.

The British forces had realised that the occupation of France was coming to an end, and now, as the Germans surrounded the British line, all troops began to retreat to a single point in Northern France, Dunquirke.

Corporal and the other engines were moved to a new makeshift yard, just outside Dunkirk. The shed was gone, only the door frame of a once proud steam shed was all that stood, and the bricks from the walls lay scattered around it. The engines felt nervous, and so did their drivers. Ted, one of the other WD locomotives, felt extremely nervous, and was sent out with hospital trains on a regular basis to try and bring back some survivors. He regularly returned, empty.

"God damn Germans took the Le mans hospital! They took all walking wounded prisoner, and fucking killed the rest! Killed them!" he cried that night.

"Probably for the best" Said Ernest, the arrogant engine.

"And just what the hell do you mean by that?" Started Corporal, indignantly.

"Bloody no gooders sitting around in a hospital, give them a bloody gun and send them to the front! That's what I say! Sitting around in a hospital pretending to have some injury so they don't have to defend their country? They should be fighting till death or glory!" Shouted Ernest, Loudly.

"I'll fucking kill him!" shouted Corporal, and began to move towards Ernest to smash him from the rails. His driver stopped him before he could do anything. Ernest laughed nastily as Corporals safety valves shot plumes of white steam high into the sky.

"Think I'm the enemy now do you? They should all be doing their duty!" he grinned as he said it.

"They are doing their duty! AND THEY ARE DYING FOR IT TOO!" yelled Corporal.

"Hey! Cut it out!" Shouted the dean as he steamed into the yard. "Corporal, I have some work for you! Come with me!"

Ernest chuckled to himself as Corporal puffed forwards and followed the dean.

"Now I know you're having it rough Corporal, but I have a special job that I can only trust in your capable self. I need you to head out Orleans's where the 95th riffles are defending the oil depot, and get them back here. Bring back as much fuel as you can, our tanks are being abandoned because we don't have any fuel for them; we're just giving them away to the Germans! Report back here at 0600 tomorrow morning when you have the tankers".

"What? You want me to go straight to the front line, and collect a train loaded with highly flammable fuel and get shot at by the bloody Nazis!" Shouted Corporal.

"That's a good engine; I knew I could trust you!" Interrupted the dean. "You can take that regiment over there as an escort; they'll keep you covered as you get the fuel. Try not to get blown up now".

Corporal stood stunned on the spot as the dean trundled casually away. Corporal's driver came up.

"Come on mate, let's get you watered and we'll head out." He said.

"We're going to bloody die!" said Corporal angrily.

They filled up Corporals tender with water, and the regiment of young men clambered on Corporals running plates. They headed off down the line, the young men clutching onto Corporals handrails tightly. They passed an open field, where the bodies of hundreds of British soldiers led. They were now deep in Enemy territory.

"If we're spotted, they'll shut down that damn oil depot and we'll die for nothing!" shouted one of the young soldiers.

"Shut up, Private!" Shouted the Sergeant, but deep down, he knew he was right. As soon as the Nazis heard an engine, they could radio ahead and ambush the oil depot before the British could do anything to stop them.

Suddenly, Corporal heard a plane fly overhead. The soldiers looked up, and gulped as they stared directly at the Messerschmitt aircraft now turning around towards them.

"EVERYBODY DOWN!" screamed the Sergeant.

The soldiers held on for dear life and crouched as low as they could as the plane made its first sweep of the engine. Corporal shouted as he felt the bullets ricochet from his steelwork. Several bullets found their way through the cab roof, and his boiler pressure gauge shattered and exploded.

"Shit!" Shouted his driver. "Now we're screwed!"

The Sergeant stood upright and pointed his gun towards the plane and opened fire. Corporal closed his eyes as the rest of the soldiers started shooting up at the plane. As the plane flew overhead, it banked heavily to the right, and sped out of sight.

"Can you see him!" shouted the Sergeant.

"No Sarge, he's gone!" replied one of the Privates.

"Well, at least we're alive for now" sighed Corporal.

"He's probably radioed us in" said the Sergeant. "Lock and load boys, we can expect a fight for this fuel now!"

He was wrong. When they arrived at the oil depot, there wasn't a soul around and all was quiet. They crept through the entrance to the yard and found then long line of fuel tankers. They coupled Corporal to it, and checked the area.

"Contact to the north!" Shouted one of the Privates.

"Friendlies!" Came a loud voice, and from behind one of the oil tanks came a battered looking bunch of men, all with tattered uniforms and blood stained faces.

"Lieutenant Williams, 95th" Said the officer.

"Sergeant Davies, ROD squadron, sir. We were sent from command" replied the Sergeant.

"It's about bloody time too" said the officer, "We've been holding this position for the last 48 hours, waiting for a god damn engine to take this fuel away. Lost a lot of good men too. They've attacked us 3 times now, but we've held them off but we're low on supplies, we're pulling out with you"

"Our orders were to bring you with us sir." Said Corporal, as he scanned the depot.

"Not a moment too soon my big friend" smiled the officer. "All aboard boys".

They coupled up Corporal to the train, and prepared to leave. Corporal suddenly noticed something moving from the corner of his eye.

"Shit! We need to go! NOW!" Shouted Corporal, but it was too late. He heard a loud whoosh as several bullets missed his smoke box by inches. His driver scrambled back onto the footplate as the soldiers all opened fire on the invisible enemy. Corporal pulled back as hard as he could, one stray bullet could end them all. Just then, he heard the rumbling of a panzer tank, and looked across the yard straight into the sights as the tanks gun aimed towards him.

"GERMAN ARMOUR!" Shouted the Sergeant, as he fired back at them. They all held on as the tank fired its first shot, which missed Corporal by millimetres and slammed straight into the side of the large petrol tank in the depot. The tank exploded and sent gallons of burning fuel raining down on the surrounding area. The whole depot was now engulfed in flames, and Corporal knew they only had a few seconds to get out. He pulled with every ounce of steam in his boiler. The train was heavy and slow to accelerate but as the last tank trundled past the gate, the next petrol tank exploded, engulfing the German armour and panzer division in flames.

Corporal chuffed loudly as he sped through the French countryside. The soldiers that clung onto the side of the train held on tightly, as the train lurched from side to side as he rounded the corners. They passed the field where the bodies had been laying, and this time, the field sprung to life, with thousands of German soldiers. The train thundered onwards, as the soldiers fired at the tankers. Corporal closed his eyes as the Sergeant fired off his machine gun inches from his face.

Thankfully they passed the field without incident; however the Germans were hot on their tail. Corporal looked to the end of the train, only to find a French locomotive steaming furiously towards them, on the down main line. The soldiers all opened fire at once, one stray bullet could destroy the fuel train.

The French locomotive looked at Corporal desperately, and tried to do everything in his power to stop the Germans, but they had killed his driver. He shouted to Corporal.

"GET OUT OF HERE! BRITISH!" He yelled.

Corporal pulled even harder, but the tankers were too heavy. Corporal's driver looked out of the cab towards the French engine. It all happened at once, as the cab window shattered to pieces, the bullet ricocheted into the tender, and Corporals driver fell to the deck, clutching his neck as his Jugular vein pumped the remnants of his blood onto the coal dust covered deck.

"SERGEANT!" Screamed the fireman loudly, and the Sergeant climbed across Corporals boiler to reach the cab. He dodged the gunfire and slammed onto the deck, slipping on the driver's blood. The driver stared at the Sergeant helplessly, as the sergeant tried to tie his handkerchief around the driver's neck.

"DRIVE!" Gurgled the driver, and pushed the sergeant away. The sergeant sat back and looked helplessly at the fireman.

"HE'S GONE, DAMN IT! HERE! SHOVEL FOR ME!" shouted the fireman, as he took the controls. They thundered on down the line.

"What's going on back there?" Shouted Corporal.

"Eddies dead!" came the reply. Corporal felt an uncontrollable rage build within his boiler and pulled even harder than before. A bullet ricocheted from his buffer beam, and he looked up towards the Germans on the cab of the French locomotive.

"COME ON THEN YOU NAZI PIGS! THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME! DO YOU'RE WORST!" He screamed as loud as he could.

Suddenly, the sergeant pulled himself up onto the cab roof, and threw a grenade towards the French engine. The explosion derailed his front bogie axle, and he slowed down helplessly as the German soldiers shouted angrily from his cab. The sergeant climbed down and continued shovelling coal into Corporals firebox.

The fireman checked the tender water level, running dangerously low.

"We need water! We're almost back at HQ, as soon as possible we need to get some!" shouted the fireman.

Sadly, this was not to be. They charged towards the yard, only to find the smoking remains of the HQ.

"God damn it! They've fallen back to Dunquirke!" Shouted the Sergeant.

"We still need water!" Shouted the fireman. "We need to stop!"

"We're still in enemy territory! We can't stop here! We'll be sitting ducks if we do!" replied the sergeant.

"Well we have no choice, if we don't get water, Corporal will blow up!" shouted the fireman.

Corporal didn't care anymore; he was more concerned with getting the fuel to safety.

"Listen to me! Keep going! Keep that regulator open! If the fusible go, just jump off!" Shouted Corporal. "We need to get this fuel back, its worth more than all of us!"

"No Corporal, don't you be a god damn hero now, we need to play it safe!" Shouted his fireman.

"KEEP GOING! MORE STEAM!" Screamed Corporal. His fireman decided not to argue, and opened the regulator again. Dunquirke was only a few miles more, maybe they would make it. Corporal winced as the pressure in his boiler began to rise uncontrollably. Without any water to cool the crown, he felt the pain as the temperature shot up. His safety valves began to blow uncontrollably.

The fireman began to drop the fire out.

"Don't you dare! Not until the tankers are safe!" Screamed Corporal.

They approached a siding near the town, and slowed down to drop off the tankers. Corporal looked around as they slowly trundled through the outskirts of the town. All around he could see bomb craters, and dead bodies. High in the sky he could hear the unmistakable sound of German fighters and bombers, preparing to drop on their targets at Dunquirke. They stopped in the siding, and uncoupled Corporal from the train. The soldiers jumped off and ran towards the beach.

The British were in full retreat. The Germans were advancing at an uncontrollable pace, forcing the British lines back towards Dunquirke. Corporal was moved backwards, his safety valves hissing uncontrollably.

"His Fusible will go any minute!" Shouted the fireman.

Finally, they stopped near an old fire hose, and the Sergeant clambered up onto the tender and shoved it in. Corporal felt a sigh of relief as he felt the cold water filling his boiler. Instantly he felt better and calmer. Suddenly, a group of soldiers came sprinting past.

"AIR RAID!" They screamed, as the sirens sounded loudly. Corporal stared into the distance, and out to sea. The shore line was covered in soldiers running to the beaches. There they waded out towards small boats and many large ships were waiting to collect them. He stared in amazement at the pandemonium. Never before had the British experienced such terror, such defeat, such fear as Dunquirke. He looked around, and before his eyes, the sergeant was blown up by a falling bomb, Corporals hearing went quiet and he opened his eyes, and looked around.

In front of him, a young soldier, only 14 years old at most, clutched onto his intestines and screamed for his mother. A trickle of blood came from his mouth as he finally let go. Corporal looked around, and there was the front line of Germans, marching towards the beaches. Corporal whistled loudly and shouted. His fireman looked towards Corporal desperately.

"LEAVE ME!" He screamed.

"NO!" Replied his fireman. He clambered into the cab, and sent Corporal backwards towards the beach. He slammed through the buffers and stopped suddenly; his tender sunk into the sand and stopped him. The fireman shut off the regulator, and climbed down from the cab.

"GO!" Screamed Corporal. "You can get yourself out! There is no hope for me!"

"Corporal! I can't just leave you!" Began his fireman.

"RUN! RUN NOW! JUST GO!" screamed Corporal, as he looked over towards the bushes and watched the Germans running forwards. This was it. It was here that he would make his stand.

"COME ON THEN YOU NAZI PIGS! COME AND GET ME!" Screamed Corporal.

The Germans set up a line, and began shooting towards the beaches. Corporal watched helplessly as his fireman was shot in the back, and fell to the floor.

"NO! NO YOU BASTARDS!" Screamed Corporal and he blew steam angrily into the air, and whooshed steam from his cylinders at the Germans as they passed him. He heard the unmistakable whine of a German bomber, and looked into the sky. The bomb landed nearby, and Corporal felt his face sting red hot, and then, could remember no more.

The ships continued to wait for the small boats bringing soldiers out, but the last ones came and stayed as the Germans captured the beach and took the remaining soldiers prisoner. The ships steamed away towards England, leaving behind the friends that they could never save.

Corporal awoke slightly, his eyes tired and stinging from the dirt in them. He looked helplessly as the Germans marched towards the town, taking the prisoners with them.

And nobody could stop them. France now belonged to the Germans.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5 – Our darkest hour.**

The British had fallen back. The true age of austerity had begun. The Luftwaffe began its bombardment of Britain, and the boys of the royal air force gave everything to stop them. Corporal felt like a traitor. He had survived Dunkirk, and had been re railed and taken to the old airbase where the RAF had once sent out its own fighters from. He felt dead inside as he shunted wagons loaded with ammunition from the yard to the base, and brought bombs for the Luftwaffe to use to bombard his own country. He tried numerous times to sabotage this, and had found a nack for derailing himself on the point work that led into the air field. This got him in a lot of trouble, and it was soon decided to remove him from important jobs such as this, and send him to Germany where he could learn a lesson in German discipline. He was attached to the front of a return German troop train from Paris to Frankfurt, and headed along the line. He admired the French countryside for the last time as he was taken across the border into Germany.

At every station, the SS had set up checkpoints, and would often board the train to check the passengers. This made Corporal angry, but the soldiers would all gather in front of him and laugh nastily at the sight of the British engine. Corporal blew steam angrily at them and they spat at him, but he did not lose his stiff upper lip, but smiled rebelliously at the SS Soldiers.

Since the bomb had landed in Dunquirke, his face had healed, leaving several deep and horrible scars on his face. One led from the left side of his face, right under his eye. The driver and fireman had an easy time working out how to drive him, and were secretly impressed with the quality of engineering of the British engine.

When Corporal arrived in Frankfurt, he was taken to the engine sheds. The shed was a huge roundhouse, and was very clean and tidy, and full of German engines. As Corporal backed onto the large turntable, the engines all yelled and hurled abuse at him. He sat with his eyes closed, silently. He was reversed into a siding just next to the shed, and two smaller tank engines looked at him in disgust. They hurried forward and moved to a siding further away. Corporal sat silently in the yard, looking into the distance sadly. His boiler cooled down, and he felt very cold. The shed doors were all closed and the other engines went to sleep, while Corporal shivered alone outside. He felt cold and miserable, but worst, he was still alive. Why was he still alive when so many had died on the beaches of Dunquirke?

Suddenly, he heard a whistle, definitely not a German engines whistle. An engine puffed into the yard, and Corporal opened his eyes to see the dean, reversing onto the turntable. He then backed into the siding next to Corporal, and smiled when he seen him.

"So, you made it too?" asked the dean.

"Yes, what are we doing here?" Asked Corporal.

"We're being put to work on the coal trains, there's a large colliery just outside of town and we're to bring it to the steelworks here". He replied. "Be ready for a long days work tomorrow, they know how to make us work here".

"Hell with that" Began Corporal rebelliously. "I'll shove their wagons off the rails".

"You will do no such thing. You are more valuable alive" snapped the dean. "It's about survival now, you will see tomorrow. Get some sleep now".

Corporal didn't any sleep at all, and stared at the town as the sun rose into the sky. The shed cleaners arrived, in their posh looking uniforms and opened the shed doors as the morning smoke filled the air. The German engines all emerged from the shed looking extremely pompous and arrogant. Every single one of them was painted black with red under frames, and each one was polished to perfection. Corporal's shabby appearance was the subject of their laughter that morning.

"Ignore them, you'll get used to it after a while" said the dean.

As the engines all got steam up and headed out of the sheds, each one shouted some random insult to Corporal, in German. Soon, Corporals driver turned up, and they headed out of the sheds and to the sidings. There they picked up a train of empties and headed out to the colliery. When they arrived, Corporal looked in shock as he saw prisoner camps, full to the brim with British prisoners being counted and checked. He whistled loudly to them, and they all looked around to him. Some of them cheered, and ran to the fences. They knew his whistle anywhere. The guards screamed and shouted at them to get back in line, and they gave one final cheer for Corporal, and then resumed their positions.

Corporal and dean trundled towards the sidings just outside the colliery. There they could see prisoners loading the wagons to the brim with coal. Nazi soldiers stood guard on them.

"Jesus!" Said Corporal.

"Yep" Began Dean. "They are using our prisoners as slave labour".

The engines were stopped just a few metres away from a long line of fully loaded coal trucks. They were large hopper wagons, and looked very heavy. Dean was shunted onto the track next to Corporal and was coupled up to another heavy looking train.

"What are you doing?" Asked Corporal.

"We're prisoners too, you know" he said. "We're also slaves"

"But you're old! You can't pull that!" shouted Corporal.

"He can pull it just fine, Can't you scum!" Shouted a voice.

Corporal looked up, and seen the largest engine he had ever seen approaching. A huge black and red engine, known to the Germans as the "Kriegslok" Engine, designed and built in the thousands by the Nazis, nobody knew it yet, but these engines would become the most common of all steam engines. A Huge amount of power available with the ability to steam on virtually anything. A similar design concept to Corporal in fact. Corporal couldn't help but be impressed as the engine slowly puffed towards them.

As he came closer, Corporal noticed the two flags sporting swastikas, and a golden eagle fitted onto his buffer beam. His appearance was slick, and evil. A small moustache lurked underneath his pointed nose, and his cocky expression soon turned to that of Joy.

"You aren't slacking there, are you?" Asked the pompous Nazi engine.

"No sir, not at all sir!" Stuttered the dean, and heaved on his train with all of his might. He grunted and wheezed and struggled to get the train rolling. Corporal stared daggers at the Nazi engine. He sighed and turned his gaze to Corporal.

"Now then, can you tell me what on earth you are looking at, British?" He asked in a very highly strung German accent.

"YOU! YOU CUNT!" Shouted Corporal in his loudest and most defiant voice. The Nazi engine opened his eyes wide, and looking into Corporals own, and could sense his rage. He was quite taken aback at being talked to in such a manner, but maintained his composure.

"You know, you should think very carefully about how you talk to your seniors, as I have the power to do things to you that you won't particularly like very much" he said slyly. A small grin emerged on his face, as though hoping that Corporal would retaliate. Corporal just stared at him, and his top lip quivered in anger.

"Get going, now" said the German engine, and headed out of the yard. Corporal was coupled up to the train, and he blew steam at the Shunter angrily. The Shunter cursed at him loudly in German, and threw a bucket at Corporals face, to which, Corporal spat at him.

"Nazi pigs!" Screamed Corporal. His driver had had enough, and opened the regulator. Corporal put a minimal effort into moving the trucks, and tried his best to stay put. The driver was having none of it, clearly an experienced railwayman, he brought Corporal under control, and they headed out of the yard and passed the Prisoner camp. Corporal blew his whistle loudly.

"RULE BRITANNIA!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Prisoner of war.**

The months passed. 1941 brought nothing more than a brutal hammering from the Luftwaffe, which the Nazi engine, (Corporal had now found a more appropriate name for him, after being told his name was Herman, he decided to call him "Herman Goering" Behind his back) found hysterical and liked nothing more than sharing the most accurate and vivid details to dean and Corporal with an expression of utmost glee as he did so.

Corporal adapted to life as a prisoner. It was pretty much the same as before, but just longer hours. It became a regular thing for him to work 2 – 3 days straight without having his smoke box cleaned out and his ash pan raked. Corporal took it in his stride, he was still a young engine, and ready for anything. He felt nothing but hate towards the fellow shed mates, who by now had become bored of shouting random insults at the two Brits.

Dean was struggling to cope. He was an elderly engine now, and needed much more tender care than he was receiving. He refused to let it affect his work but it was obvious he was being pushed beyond the limit. By December 1941, he was a wreck. His boiler was filthy, and lime scale erupted from his valves.

Corporal and Dean were resting in the shed one night. Dean was wheezing dreadfully, but he was due to go out again for the night shift. Corporal demanded to go in his place, but this gave Herman Goering, the pleasure of being able to refuse. Dean was sent out, and Corporal could do nothing but watch his friend struggle to cope.

"You see, he wishes to work until he dies, I'm just seeing that he succeeds with that wish!" Herman giggled. Corporal fumed silently.

One day, the engines woke up to find that all of the other engines had left the yard. There was a shortage of munitions at the front lines, as the Germans had just declared war on Russia, and were now advancing on the eastern front. In order to succeed, they would need more munitions and more supplies than ever before. All of the other engines had been sent out, and no one was left now except Corporal. Herman came to the yard.

"Well my British prisoner, it would seem that today is your lucky day" He said happily.

"Why's that? Am I being scrapped?" asked Corporal indignantly.

"No, no, no! My friend!" Began Herman. "All of my Arian... Ahem, I mean, all of the "Non Prisoner" Engines are busy today, so you shall have the good fortune of being able to pull the troop train to Warsaw, in Poland. If you can prove that you could swear your loyalties to the party, and our great Furher, I could possibly arrange for you to take this train more often" he said. Corporal looked up at him, something was up. Why was Herman making him an offer?

"Sorry, I don't make deals with pigs" said Corporal triumphantly.

"Do you really want to spend the rest of the war working these god awful coal trains? Here is your chance to get some glamour! You could show our great German people, what the future could await for them! Think about it, a union between Germany, and Great Britain! You could have everything we have! If Britain would only surrender, I could tell you now that there would be no more fighting!" He said a slight smirk on his face.

"Where have I heard that before?" Asked Corporal. "You bastards don't know the meaning of the word, peace! You just take what you want without asking! Do you really think we'll just sit back and let you march in and take everything from us! I can tell you now; we'll fight you until the last man is standing"

"One day, my friend, we shall be allies! There would be no need for you to be a prisoner! We could be united as one, glorious Arian race!" shouted Herman as Corporal puffed away.

"The day that we British surrender to you will be a very sad day for this earth!" Shouted Corporal loudly, and Herman swore loudly in German.

Corporal was coupled to some German coaches in the yard, they looked old and needed repainting but he pulled them to the station. The passengers were surprised to see a British built engine pulling the train, but didn't ask questions. He waited impatiently as some boys stood near him, looking at him in bewilderment. They had never seen a British engine before and were impressed. The guards whistle blew and he puffed away. He never understood the German signals and didn't care very much anyway. He carried on through the yard, and he noticed all of the other engines giving him funny looks as he passed. His driver made him whistle loudly as they passed them, which drew their attention to him more. He headed through the outskirts of Berlin, and noticed the red flags hanging from most buildings. Each one had a swastika on it, and he could see thousands of people standing in the street. He was stopped at a signal, and stared in amazement as the crowds of people cheered as a cavalcade of open topped cars drove through the streets. Corporal suddenly caught a glimpse of him. The crowds of people all saluted for the Furher as he passed through.

"So, that's Hitler" Thought Corporal. He had seen news reels and movies of Hitler, but in real life, he didn't look like the massive, 7 feet tall monster he was made out to be. He looked like an elderly and fragile man. Corporal couldn't believe that this man was responsible for the whole of the 3rd Reich.

Corporal's driver and fireman stood watching from the cab, and corporal made his decision. He blew his whistle as loudly as he could. The streets all turned their heads quickly, frightened by the foreign sounding noise. The Low pitched chime of his Swindon built whistle echoed loudly throughout Berlin. Corporal's driver and fireman panicked, and started the train as quickly as they could to get away. Corporal knew he had made his mark.

"RULE BRITANNIA!" He shouted at the top of his voice. He had no idea whether Hitler had heard his battle cry, but certainly knew he had done his best. He had just declared war on Adolf Hitler personally.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Sabotage.**

Corporal continued to work the troop trains, as the other engines very rarely returned to the sheds. Corporal became increasingly worried for Dean, who by now was starting to fall apart. His British bulldog attitude was keeping him going though, and he refused to give up. Corporal was continuously being bombarded by Herman with his incessant offers to allow him to become one of them. All that Corporal had to do was to swear allegiance to the Furher. One day, Corporal woke up, and was shocked to see the article in the newspaper that his driver was reading.

"The Yanks are in" Said the dean. "The Japps bombed Pearl harbour, and now the Yanks are fighting. This war will be over soon!" he said positively.

"We aren't alone anymore" Sighed Corporal. This was the first piece of good news he had received in a very long time. Herman was quick enough to try to bring down their hope.

"Just because the Americans have joined the war, does not mean you shall win!" he shouted as he was being turned on the turntable. "They are just arrogant cowboys who think they own the world, and we shall show them who is boss"

"Soon, my friend, this war will turn around, just you wait and see". Whispered Corporal.

Herman sighed, and trundled forwards towards him.

"This war shall end, with the Furher hoisting our glorious flag to the top of Big Ben" he whispered back.

Corporal grunted, and spat into Herman's face. He then trundled away to collect the coaches for his troop train. Herman was determined to teach Corporal a lesson.

Corporal's train thundered through the countryside, and soon, they approached the outskirts of Berlin. Corporal had an idea, if he could derail himself here, not only would he take out most of the troops inside his train, but he would block and damage the main line into Berlin, which could cripple the German war effort for weeks, or even months.

With no time to plan his sabotage, he charged forwards with full steam, increasing his speed as he thundered towards the intricate point work. His driver was shocked, and frantically tried to shut the regulator. It was useless, and the speed continued to increase.

Some plate layers who were working on the line waved and shouted, but the train continued to speed along. Corporal looked ahead and found the points switched right across the main lines, as he derailed, he would block all 5 lines leading out of Berlin. Corporal's driver and fireman jumped from the cab, and many of the passengers in the coaches screamed and shouted. He closed his eyes, and waited for the crash.

There was none, his wheels left the rails, but instead of crashing, he simply rolled across the lines, and came to rest awkwardly across the mainline, as the coaches behind him lurched and screeched to a halt. The signalman came running across the line, shouting abuse to the driver who had now made his way along the line towards them, and was shouting abuse at Corporal.

Corporal looked around, and discovered with extreme disappointment that he had only managed to derail himself and a few coaches; a few hours work with a crane could bring the line back in use. No damage to the track work at all. He sighed as some of the passengers gathered around the driver and fireman who all screamed abuse at him. Corporal could tell that they were screaming anti-British insults at him, but he didn't care, for his attention turned towards the large black and red engine approaching him. He looked up, and cringed as he saw Herman puffing towards him, grinning with triumph. Corporal knew he was already planning a harsh punishment for him. Herman heard him whisper only one word, a word which, soon, would soon become a common name, spoken with hushed tones, and associated with tragedy.

"Auschwitz", he whispered triumphantly.


End file.
